'2:30 am'

Read a small black and blue digital clock on the drawer next to Soap's bed. The dim red glow of the numbers casting a small hue of red onto his face. Sleep seemed as if it would never come to him and maybe it never would. Not for lack of trying on his part, however the sweet embrace of sleep evaded him like prey trying desperately to escape its predator. He tossed and turned for what may have been the sixth time that night. The briefing of their next mission had left him feeling sick to his stomach.

The 141 was to be stationed in a small village off the coast of Chile. Something about a doctor performing human experiments, along with human trafficking. Pictures of disfigured women and children rattled around in his mind. It wasn't something he'd ever truly be able to forget. It was said in the file that all his victims suffered for months before either dying from infection, stress, or the doctor simply grew tired of his work.

Bury it Mactavish. Just bury it and go to sleep

Soap scolded himself for letting it get to him so much. Of course it was horrific but he was a soldier, seeing things like this came with the territory. They were supposed to deploy around 12pm that afternoon and here he was letting his mind run rampant. Sleep was clearly not going to be an option, so with a quiet sigh Soap got up from the twin-sized bed and made his way out into the dimly lit halls of the base. Clothed in a plain black oversized hoodie, a pair of black skin-tight boxers that stopped just above his knees and dark blue and white sneakers.

His shoes quietly thumped against the soft dark blue carpeting of the floor. Perhaps he could go to a teammate's room to bunk with them, he thought. It's easier to sleep when you have someone there with you.

But who?

Gaz maybe?

Maybe not, he tends to snore a lot

Perhaps Alejandro and Rodolfo?

Nah. They barely have enough room for the two of them as it is. I'd probably end up sleeping on the floor anyway.

Did Price even sleep?

On more than one occasion Soap had seen him wearing the same clothes as the day before. A bone-tired expression upon his face and a steaming cup of coffee next to him. Probably one of many. If he was actually sleeping, Mactavish wouldn't be the one to disturb him. Which seemed to only leave him with one other option.

Ghost

Would he even answer the door? Would he just ignore him? Curse him out for waking him? Any of which were possible.

Continuing his walk through the darkened halls of the base he realized how quiet it was. For the most part, he had never taken into account how quiet it could get. The base was usually teeming with activity during the day.

Well, I'm not going to be getting any sleep soon.

"This pumpin' sooks" he groaned. With each step he could feel his exhaustion seep deeper into his body yet his mind wasn't willingly to surrender to it. Continuing down the long and winding halls he found he was nearing the kitchen. There was a faint glow.

It was now 3 a.m. who would be up at this time?

He pondered before chuckling to himself at the realization and irony of his thoughts. Walking into the kitchen he caught sight of an ever familiar smell. It was a mix of sand, sweat, and honey. A smell Mactavish had come to know well and skull mask was just the icing on the cake.

"Lt? "

Came the voice of his tired sergeant, catching his lieutenants' attention. Ghost looked up from the cup of untouched tea in front of him. Something about the way soap sounded was different. Was his accent thicker?

"Soap. Didn't think you'd be up" ghost mused as he scanned over the younger man. Taking note of the hoodie he was wearing. It was his, having given it to him on a mission. They had been separated during a storm. Soap had been soaked to the bone when he found his way back to ghost. Slightly shivering from the cold. Ghost had ordered him to wear it, a request he was eager to comply with. Until now he'd forgotten about it.

"Aye, well I cannae sleep" yawned Mactavish as he plopped down into the chair across from his commander. The fabric of the hoodie seemed to almost swallow him whole. A small chuckle escaping his covered lips. If Soap heard him he didn't make a move to comment on it. Not that Ghost minded or wanted him to.

"The briefing is still on your mind. Isn't it Johnny". Those words earned a disturbed expression from Mactavish. The images of those files resurfacing in his head.

"It's silly" Soap sighed, rubbing his eyes in an attempt to focus on anything else but the intense feeling of Ghost's eyes on him.

"Silly? " This time Ghost's voice was softer.

Soap closed his eyes and leaned back in the chair. "Aye, we see horrible things everyday. Even then I can push it aside. But this is just". His words trailed off unable to obtain the words he wanted so desperately wanted to say.

" Doesn't mean you should" Ghost hummed into his cup, the warm sweet liquid dancing on his taste buds.

"You're one to talk Ghost. Aren't you the poster boy for 'pushing shit aside'" Soap humorlessly chuckled to himself. Ghost chuckled in response to the truthful statement. There was plenty of things he pushed aside but it didn't mean he liked it when Soap did it. Not that the hypocrisy of that statement wasn't clear to him. Not that he cared.

" Though that makes me wonder why you're out here yourself, Lt"

Ghost had not gotten much sleep as of late. Nightmares saw to it that any hope of sleep was nothing but a distant memory. Taking another sip of his tea he hummed out a soft, "just wasn't tired ".

"Bullshit, Simon" Soap yawned quietly

Ghost stared wide-eyed at the sleepy sergeant across from him. It had been the first time he'd ever used his real name. He'd always opt for 'Lt' or 'Ghost' like everyone else did. Not even Price used that name much anymore. Something about the way it meshes with Soaps thick scottish accent made his stomach flutter. But that was something he could dwell on later.

For a moment they sat in silence after that. Neither knowing what to say and also not wanting to break the comforting silence. Besides it wasn't like either was going anywhere soon. And so the next hour was spent with Ghost occasionally drinking his tea and Soap taking in the faint scent that whaffed off of Ghost. Calming his mind and helping him to temper his nerves.

Ghost rose up from his chair quietly walking over to the kitchen sink and discarding the empty cup into the silver bowl. Returning to the table he was met with the sight of his Sleeping sergeant. Seeing how tired he was, Ghost decided against waking him up, figuring he probably needed some sleep.

"Fucking hell" he groaned as he postioned Mactavish in a way that made it easy for him to carry him on his back. He was as heavy as he looked. Flicking off the lights of the kitchen he made his way back to his room. Thankfully it wasn't too far and it only took him roughly ten minutes to reach the familiar thick oak wood door that would soon separate them from the world. The wood creaked and whined as its hinges protested.

Closing the door behind himself Ghost made his way to his bed. Carefully he laid soap on the bed before climbing in himself and pulling the covers over them. Soap looked peaceful as he slept, his chest slowly rising and talking with each breathe. Before he could register it Ghost had wrapped his arms aroubd Soap's waist and pulled him close. The smaller of the two's face snuggling into his chest.

An aroma of cinnamon mixed with oranges danced in Ghost's nose. A smell that he'd began to find relief in lately, that coupled with the warmth he felt had his eyes feeling heavy. Snuggling closer to Soap he muttered a quiet...."Goodnight Johnny", as sleep took him.

~~~

Quiet giggles iminated from Gaz and Alejandro as they quietly took pictures of the two sleeping soldiers.

"You owe me 20 dollars, hermano" Chuckled Alejandro, much to Gaz's annoyance. Never the less he handed over a crisp $20 dollar bill.

"You both have three seconds to run"

Ice shot into Gaz and Alejandro's veins as a voice growled. Slowly the two turned to see a less than happy ghost glaring at them as he loaded bullets into his hand gun. Sweat broke out on their foreheads as the both bolted out of the room. A angry Simon on there heels. All the while Soap slept, a small smile on his lips.